by Simon Smith
By and large, I try to avoid
using this space to vent spleen on current events. There are good reasons for
this. For one, it perpetuates the media-myth that those events over which we
are all encouraged to lose our fruit are of fundamental importance or interest
instead of being a sideshow designed largely to distract. For another, there
are more than enough idiots spouting off about such matters and I have little
desire to join them. Perhaps more importantly, once one starts down this road,
where does it end? There’s so much to choose from in this tired old world,
after all. Should we discuss the latest doings of the Commander of Cheese
himself, his numerous efforts to denigrate and utterly undermine our humanity? But
what an embarras de richesses we face
if we do. Shall we talk about the caging of Mexican children – surely an
attempt at battery-farming – or perhaps return to the heady days of his
campaign when he voiced his support for sexual assault? It’s quite the de-humanizing
menu.
For these reasons,
among others, I prefer to avoid the detritus which floats atop the eternal sea,
poisoning all the little fishies therein, and stick to philosophy, which is at
least sufficiently abstract to enable one to avoid thinking about the end of the
world. But then, once in a while, someone says a thing utterly stupid that it
gets right up my Personalist pipe. And since those about me no longer wish to
listen to me thumping on, I felt now would be a good time to share.
As I write
this, the news is filled with chatter about the latest demonstration of just
what our species is capable of when it puts half a mind – if that’s not too
much of an overstatement – to it. I speak, of course, of comments on the
subject of Islamic dress made by a leading political figure in the UK. I shall
not name him, since he does not deserve the oxygen of publicity, which was,
quite obviously, his prime motivation in making these comments. Indeed, if I
may borrow from the late and truly great Linda Smith, we may even wish to
consider depriving him of the oxygen of oxygen. It would not, I think, be
unjust.
I do not, as
it happens, count myself among the fans of the burka or any other kind of
full-body shroud designed to completely conceal a person thereby, not only
silencing them, but effectively erasing them from society altogether, making
them unseeable and therefore unseen. Apart, that is, from a general feeling
that people ought to be able to wear more or less whatever they like. I discount
both cargo pants and sandals from that, obviously. My principle reason for not
being a fan is that, as far as I can see, this sartorial disappearing trick is
a disturbing manifestation of misogyny masquerading as religious and cultural
practice. But here’s the thing: I’ve managed to discuss this issue and my
perspective on it perfectly calmly with people who disagree. Indeed, those
conversations were frequently both interesting and informative. Some of those
people are themselves Muslim: my students, for example, when I taught in Oman.
They would cheerfully discuss Islamic dress-codes, often comparing them with
Western fashions to devastating effect. When someone cites the example of a
T-shirt marketed at young women, which has the words “Porn star in training”
emblazoned across the front, it’s difficult not to feel the moral high ground
slipping just a bit. And yet, curiously enough, the conversation never actually
descended into infantile name-calling or mockery. Odd that. It’s almost as
though people who disagree with us and do things differently to us are capable
of having a sensible conversation without
everyone being abusive or acting like sleep-deprived four-year old.
So, here’s my
first problem with this whole sad affair: if you want to insult people because
of the way they dress, if you want, in other words, to demonstrate your
ignorance and appalling lack of manners, fine, go ahead. But at least have the balls
to be honest about what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Do not try to
dress it up as part of a supposedly “serious conversation” about
multiculturalism or security or what have you. Be honest, say, “I am going to
insult these people and their culture because I want to draw attention to
myself and mummy and daddy don’t react when I swear anymore. Oh, and I’m
clearly a bit of a ****.” At least then we’ll all know where we stand.
More
importantly, perhaps, and in spite of not being much of a burka kind of chap
myself, I object even more to the comments about burkas because it amounts to bullying,
and a very nasty kind of bullying at that. Let us be clear, the burka and other
forms of traditional Islamic dress are not like a crucifix worn around the neck
and frequently tucked in where no one can see it. They are not like that
because a) a burka is not something you can wear under your ordinary clothes;
and b) because it is not at all clear that the decision to wear a burka is the
simple, frequently causal, often even meaninglessly self-decorative, decision
that wearing a piece of jewellery is. Yes, I am well aware that many Muslim
women choose to wear traditional Islamic dress in its various forms; and I
would, under no circumstances, deny their right to do so. I merely note that
social and cultural conditioning are subtle and powerful forces, and we are
none of us entirely free from their influence; nor, for that matter, are we
always aware of the hold such forces may have over us. And I do mean “we” here.
In western cultures, boys are frequently conditioned to supress their emotions
– except anger, of course – and to sexually objectify women; equally, I do not
know how many women wearing high-heels have given much thought to the ways in
which their footwear is specifically designed to emphasise their secondary
sexual characteristics and so participate in that objectification; I’m sure
it’s all of them.
The point is
that none of us are entirely free to choose: not me, not you, and not Muslim
women. Given this, it rather looks as though, in making jokes about women who
wear the burka, we’re basically making fun of the very people over whom this
particular form of misogyny is manifesting itself. That’s nice. And, I’m sure,
a very valid thing to do in any serious conversation about multiculturalism, or
nationalism, or whatever it is.
Actually, this
is fine, if you also like jokes about, say, rape and sexual assault, the
appalling conviction rates for rape and sexual assault, and other forms of
institutionalised violence directed towards women. Or perhaps jokes about
slaves, whether formerly here or in the US, or perhaps the ones who built
places like Dubai. Yes, burkas are funny, but so are those crazy chains which
African slaves used to wear: I mean, what were they thinking? They looked like
– well, slaves. Cue hi-hat.
This may be
why I was never able to secure a position as joke writer for the Chuckle
Brothers (God rest Barry Chuckle, he will be missed). As it happens, I don’t
generally find such things as sexual violence and slavery all that funny. But I
suppose as long we’re making fun of them and their victims in the name of Allegedly
Defending Liberal Values and Free Speech (a.k.a, being a self-aggrandising,
publicity-seeking, bullying little **** hiding behind so-called liberal values in
order push an agenda which is anything but liberal) it’s probably fine.
Although, if it
is fine and we do want to laugh at those subject to oppression in its many and
various forms, we might want to get better jokes. A burka does not make someone
look like a letter box; it just doesn’t. To get the effect, you would have to
stick one of those mad North Korea General hats on top and paint the poor woman
red. I may not be an expert in comedy, but I’m quite sure that:
Hey, have you noticed how women who wear the burka look like letter
boxes – if you make them wear a big North Korean General hat and paint them red?
What’s up with that?
needs more time in the workshop.
Cue hi-hat
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